Page 23 of Commitment Issues
Chapter Ten
Freddie
“So, how do you know the grooms?” I ask as Elliot hands me a mug of tea. I need to get some solid gen on who and what I’m letting myself in for.
“I met Andrew at boarding school.” He sees my surprise and smiles. “It was very crusty and traditional, and its main aim was to prepare the offspring of the wealthy and privileged to be equally wealthy and privileged in turn, but in fairness it was fiercely academic. I stuck out like a sore thumb because I earned my place there. I won a scholarship,” he explains. “I don’t come from a background where private education’s the norm.”
He snorts a laugh, his eyes narrowing as though he’s thinking.
“In fact, my dad was dead against me going. He was a rough and ready working-class Irishman, a socialist through and through, and I think he saw my going as some kind of class betrayal. Mum had different ideas. She was all about what she called ‘bettering ourselves’, and she made sure I was packed off as soon as possible.”
“Did you mind that? Not sure I’d have liked leaving my family behind.”
He tilts his head, his brow crinkling as he considers my question.
“No, I didn’t. That’s not to say I wasn’t apprehensive, but I knew it was a massive opportunity. Even as a child, I was old in my outlook. So, I went from a council house and a rough around the edges concrete block of a school, to something that looked like Hogwarts. I’ve never forgotten my roots though. Or I hope I haven’t.”
“So, you’re not really posh, then?”
Elliot throws back his head and laughs, the creases at the edges of his eyes deepening.
“Not in the least. Andrew and I then went onto Cambridge, along with James who was also at school with us. Marcus, I met later, when he and Andrew got together, and it was through him I met Gavin.”
I sip my tea, and stay silent. A frown settles between his brows at the mention of his ex’s name. But Gavin’s the reason for this charade, and if I’m to play my part I need to know more about him than either James’ or Cosmo’s view that he’s a turd. I lick my lips, preparing to broach the tricky subject.
“What do I need to know about Gavin? Just so I don’t fall into any avoidable traps, or make some almighty gaffe.”
Elliot doesn’t say anything. It’s no more than seconds, but it stretches out like a wet bank holiday weekend. He shrugs, and exhales a long breath.
“We were together for ten years, pretty much, but you’d already know that. Gavin’s sharp. He can be very funny when he wants, and he could make me believe I was the only man in the world, but there was, and is, a flip side. He can use his intelligence to hurt, his humour to be cruel.”
He looks away, and thrusts his fingers through his hair, and tries to smile when he turns back to me.
“It wasn’t always like that. There were plenty of good times, over the years. But, somewhere along the line, I’d stopped giving him what he wanted or needed. It just took me longer to realise that he’d also stopped doing that for me. The last couple of years were — well, let’s just say they were difficult. But we tried to patch things up, because ten years was worth trying to save, but in the end we couldn’t, because there was nothingtosave. When the split came, it was the best thing for us both.”
Elliot looks at me, his eyes narrowed. I know he wants to say more, and I wait.
“If he can trip you up, he will, so you need to be aware.” He offers up a small, dull smile. “But perhaps he won’t even bother trying. He’ll be there with somebody, so hopefully he’ll be too caught up. Who knows?”
Or maybe he won’t. The more I’m hearing about Gavin, the moreturdis sounding like too good a term for him.
“But he’ll be curious about me. I mean, because you were a couple for so long, he’s bound to want to know.”
Elliot’s light blue eyes are as clear and sharp as diamonds. I shift under his scrutiny, and bury my face in my mug.
“Yes, he will. I think we can tell him you turned up here as a Viking strip-o-gram, flinging everything off before realising you’d got the wrong address but I, being the gentleman I am, took you in for a nice hot cuppa, and you never left.”
I spit out my tea, coughing hard as my eyes water. Elliot laughs and gets me some kitchen roll.
“Sorry,” I splutter, cleaning up the mess. “That wasn’t what I—”
He doesn’t mean that — does he?
Elliot’s grinning, and I can’t help but grin back. Oh, God, I wish he’d smile and laugh more. He’s got a smile that could light up the night sky.
“You had me there.”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t resist. Forgive me?” His eyes lock onto mine, and my pulse throbs in my neck, but it’s not the only thing that’s throbbing. Yes, I think I could forgive him anything. “We should keep it simple,” he says, bringing me out of my haze. “We met through James, so that’s what we’ll say. If pressed, it was at one of his parties. Gavin isn’t the only one we’ll say that to. I don’t want to say anything to Andrew or Marcus, either.”
